5
Two steps forward and three steps back. It was the endless dance between Breck and Tam. He tried to pull her toward him, and she pushed back. There was a hollow fear in the pit of his stomach every time he thought about what happened once this was over. Assuming they came through this in one piece—and he could only hope that was even possible—he still had no idea if she would want anything permanent with him. The cheetah-shifter was a moving target. A very fast one, at that.
She knew they were mates now, but what did that really mean to her? She didn’t feel this connection, this compulsion to stay with one person forever. That was the albatross around his neck, not hers. For all he knew, she didn’t even give a shit. She might want him, might care about him, might even love him, but that hadn’t kept her with him before. What chance did he have that it would keep her with him now?
How long could he keep chasing her? How many times did she have to shove him away before giving up was better than trying again?
He sighed. Now wasn’t the time. Her mind was on the situation with her sister, as it should be. He couldn’t hold that against her. If he had any family left, he’d do whatever it took to help, too. Just as he was willing to do whatever it took to help his mate. But in the back of his mind, the nagging worry was constantly there.
What if she disappeared again?
Slipping his arm around her trim waist, he led her into the Duke of Gemini’s party. He blinked. The place was . . . gaudy was the best word he could come up with. It was festooned with microsilk rosettes in every imaginable shade. Most of them ugly. There were ice sculptures, gyrating belly dancers, a fountain burbling liquid that looked remarkably like blood, and a banal few vidscreens replaying the racing highlights of the day. Somehow, he’d expected something a bit more tasteful. Polished and refined.
This was none of those things.
Glancing up at him, Tam snorted. “You really hadn’t heard of His Grace’s tastes?”
“What taste?” He whispered from the corner of his mouth, smoothing his expression into the polite lines his mother had always insisted on when the Breckenridges were in public.
A giggle spilled from her, and she covered her mouth with her fingertips. She was so beautiful. Her black microsilk dress managed to be sexy, chic, and sophisticated at the same time. Her hair had been up this morning, but their session in the raceplex box had left it trailing down her back in soft waves. He wanted to get his hands into it again, loved that he knew she wore nothing under the dress. He wanted his hands under that again, too.
She poked his arm. “Here he comes.”
He didn’t have to ask which of the many men milling in the huge room was the duke. No, there was only one who fit right in to this tacky monstrosity. He was as round as he was tall and rolled toward them, loud laughter bursting from his throat at something the painfully skinny man beside him said.
Tam bent her head and curtsied deeply when the duke stopped in front of them. Breck managed to incline his head respectfully, but he wasn’t going to bow. He’d probably fall over laughing. The man was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever seen. A brilliant green snake nanotat wound up from under his shirt, wrapped around his neck and up his face. It writhed under his skin, blinking and flicking out its forked tongue. Another nanotat was a single blue tear that rolled down his cheek from the corner of one eye, rolled back up again, and then trailed down once more.
“Your Grace,” Tam purred as she rose from her curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Ah, who’s this?” The man’s puffy cheeks made his eyes disappear when he smiled.
“I’m Constantine Breckenridge, and this lovely lady is Felicia Tamryn.” Summoning up his most winning grin, Breck introduced them with a flourish of his hand. A man like this would appreciate a bit of ostentation. “By odd coincidence, we both prefer our last names to our first, so please call us Breck and Tam, Your Grace.”
The rotund man’s laugh boomed out. “It is quite the coincidence, no?”
Tam’s hand tucked into the crook of Breck’s elbow. The look she gave him was nothing short of adoring. “I’ve always liked to think it’s part of what makes us perfect for each other. We have so much in common.”
“You are a beautiful couple.” His Grace favored them with a little wave that would have made the queen proud. “Enjoy my party. Have a drink to celebrate all the winners today, and another to commiserate with those who weren’t as lucky.”
He and his entourage rolled by, leaving Breck and Tam to circulate with the other guests. She poured on the charm whenever they spoke to anyone, and he was reminded why she was so good at getting people to do whatever she wanted. She was beautiful, smart, witty, and she had enough charisma to draw even the most resistant out of their shells. Some of it was real, he knew, but some was an act for the benefit of those watching. He doubted anyone except him could tell the difference. She was damn good at what she did. If only she used her abilities for something slightly less nefarious.
An hour and a half passed before they got their first glimpse of Abernathy. Finally. Breck took a step in his direction, but Tam’s hand restrained him. She murmured, “Let him come to us.”
“Why?”
Her eyes sparkled with laughter when she met his gaze. “Who does this for a living, again?”
Snorting, he pinched her backside, making her jolt forward a bit. “I wasn’t arguing with your expertise, just trying to learn something.”
“Considering a new career?” She arched an eyebrow.
“Your tactics would work in my line of work, beloved.” Something he’d thought more than once before. Would that be a way to keep her? Give her a legitimate outlet for her skills and the opportunity to keep Sophie with her? She’d said this was the only thing she could do once she’d become a criminal, because no one would hire her. Perhaps he could change that for her. Then again, he wasn’t certain being her boss was a direction he wanted to take their relationship. Something to consider at a later date.
Another member of the House of Lords drifted near, and Tam drew her and her husband into a conversation. Catherine and Kenneth Fordythe seemed to like to hear themselves speak expansively on everything. The topics went from horse racing to laws regulating betting on human races. It was then that Abernathy and his wife came to say hello to the other couple, and Breck realized that somehow Tam had known this would happen, that the two members of the House of Lords were friends and talking to one would bring over the other.
Impressive.
He engaged lightly in the discussion. Most of it was about English politics, which was something he knew little about. He did participate in conversations about business. Mostly, he just watched Tam do her thing, making both the other couples fall in love with her.
Abernathy’s wife sighed, glancing at a troupe of gyrating belly dancers with a small smile. She had a face that could rival any of the horses at the raceplex today. “This is a very . . . exotic party. We don’t get anything like this in London.”
“Is that really a bad thing, Drusilla?” Breck arched his eyebrows in mock surprise, making the politicians try to hide a snicker.
“I like it. It adds a bit of . . . something to the occasion.” Mrs. Fordythe waved her champagne flute, indicating the ice sculptures shaped like famous racehorses and lit in eye-searing phosphorescent colors. Her husband hummed in agreement with her, but he didn’t seem to disagree with her about anything. She had him well trained.
Lord Abernathy huffed, his thick mustache ruffling. “I do like things a bit more dignified, but this is the place to be after the Classic.”
It took Breck a moment to remember the final race today had been a big annual event called the Ascot Classic.
“Well, perhaps we can accommodate your tastes.” His smile included both couples. “Tam and I are hosting a party back in town at my penthouse. The Royale. You’ll all be sure to come, won’t you?”
Abernathy’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the exclusive establishment. If Breck had the penthouse there, it said something about his affluence as well as his influence. He let his smile widen. “I’m in town on business for a few weeks. Always good to meet new people, make new connections. You never know what might come of it.”
“What business is that, if you don’t mind my boldness?” Mr. Fordythe asked.
Breck took a sip of his scotch. “I own the Breckenridge Group, among other enterprises.”
And that was when his last name connected with what the newsvids said about New Chicago corporations. He watched their eyes light as comprehension dawned, and a bit of calculated greed came from both politicians.
“Good friends of ours, Hunter Avery and his mate, will also be there.” Tam rested her head against Breck’s shoulder, the very image of innocent curiosity. “Have you met the Averys before?”
Few had. Before his mating, Hunter had been a well-known recluse, shying away from the public because he was guaranteed to end up on the newsvids. Now, however, if his wife had a job in London or Beijing or any other city on the planet, he was likely to be close behind.
Tam offered a sweet smile. “They’re a charming couple. Really, you must meet them, mustn’t they, darling?”
“Of course.” Breck grinned back, trying to look as adoring as she did, but doubting he pulled it off.
“I’ll be certain to send details around to your secretaries.” When they came up with those details, she meant.
There wasn’t a reciprocal offer to attend the Abernathy’s ball, but at least they had an additional opportunity to wrangle that out of them. Breck was willing to bet if the Averys showed at the party, he and Tam could command any audience they wanted. People would use any angle to get a piece of Hunter Avery.
Tam ran a hand down Breck’s arm. “Darling, I seem to have run out of champagne.”
“We can’t have that. Let’s see if we can find a waiter.” After they stepped away, he bent and whispered in her ear, “How are you going to guarantee the Averys are there? Darling.”
She grinned at him. “I thought I’d try asking them.”
“You think that will work?” His tone was dubious, he couldn’t help it. “Hunter hates society parties.”
Her shoulder dipped in a nonchalant shrug. “Delilah would come for me.”
“She’s a friend?”
Friend is perhaps too strong a word, but we’ve developed a respect for each other’s work over the years.” Tam’s eyes crinkled at the corners, but she didn’t quite smile. “We’re both very good at what we do, and that can occasionally be . . . mutually beneficial.”
He frowned down at her. “You’ve worked together before?”
“I can’t say.” She winked. “Discretion.”
“Honor among thieves.” He chuckled as they reached a table filled with miniaturized dishes from all imaginable food groups. He picked up one that looked like it might have been a tiny chicken.
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” she retorted a little too sharply. “There are certain codes of conduct that people adhere to. It keeps us all safe. Or safer, as the case may be.”
“Stop assuming that every word I say about your profession is a criticism.” He shot her a look.
“I’m not.” But the protest was weak; she tried to hide a wince and didn’t quite succeed.
“You are. Stop it.” He held up the chicken. “What kind of gene-junking do you think made this possible?”
“More importantly, is it safe to consume?” Her lips twisted into a funny shape, though he thought he saw a flash of relief that he wasn’t going to pursue the disagreement.
“I don’t think I’ll risk it.” He set the dish back down and got back to their original discussion. “I like the Averys. I’m sure they’ll be delightful additions to our party. I assume you know someone who can plan it for us.”
“Yes. Me. I may have grown up on the London docks, but I can throw a party that won’t shame you.” She hurried on when he gave her a pointed look. “I’ll speak to the Royale catering staff when we return to town tomorrow.”
It was moments like this that showed the cracks in the veneer she’d applied so carefully. When she was manipulating people, she was the most confident woman he’d ever met. When it came to the woman beneath the act, she had flashes of vulnerability that caught him off guard. Sometimes it even seemed to border on self-loathing, and that worried him. “Well, then. Better you than me.”
“I assume you have an assistant who handles these things for you.” She gingerly bit into what looked like a mutated strawberry. It was fluorescent blue. Her eyes widened in horror and she snatched up a flute of champagne, gulping it down.
“Glad I didn’t risk it.” He laughed at the expression on her face. “But I have three assistants, at last count. They handle everything. Terrifyingly efficient women. You remember them.”
She frowned. “You only had two.”
Shrugging, he slid a hand into his pocket. “I had to add another when some of my focus was taken up by tracking down a certain cheetah.”
“Ah.”
He pressed his free hand to the middle of her back and urged her away from the questionable delicacies the Duke of Gemini was offering. “They’re making sure my board of directors doesn’t stage a coup while I’m on . . . vacation.”
“Some vacation.” Her glance was dubious.
He met her gaze squarely. “I’m exactly where I’d like to be, with who I want to be with, and I’m not working. That’s a vacation.”
Clearing her throat, she made her tone light and teasing. “You should really try somewhere warmer next time. Get a little sun.”
“Only if you plan to join me.” He drew her fingers to his lips, kissing them. “I’m sure Sophie would love a trip to the beach.”
Her dark gaze softened. “My sister is invited, hm?”
“She’s family, isn’t she?” He pressed his lips to the middle of her palm. “My family always vacationed together, even after I reached adulthood. Before my parents passed, that is.”
“I’m sorry.” Her fingers tightened around his, sympathy in her gaze.
“It was a long time ago, but thank you.” He cleared his throat and glanced away. It was probably one of the reasons he wanted her with him so badly. He wanted the connections he’d lost when his parents died. Their transport had collided with another and no one had survived the accident. Most of the people in his life now were there because of his work, but not Tam. He wanted that closeness, people who mattered to him. In his life, in his home. Sophie was part of that image now, too; because she was someone Tam loved, he automatically widened his circle of family to include the girl.
The belly dancers came near, pulling his thoughts back to the present. He realized that they were naked except for the huge albino pythons wrapped around their bodies. The pythons shifted into naked women and the two original dancers quickly shifted into massive black anaconda snakes, twining themselves around the paler dancers.
Breck’s eyebrows arched. “Maybe there’s something to be said for Gemini’s parties. Should we have them perform at—”
His breath whooshed out when Tam elbowed him in the ribs.
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Tam slept fitfully in the transport back the next day. She hadn’t slept much at all since leaving London. Breck had been insatiable, reaching for her again and again during the night. She hadn’t complained. She wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her. It would scare her less if it was just the sex she wanted, but she stuffed that thought down to the deepest, darkest corner of her soul. She was just using him. That was what she did with men. And that was what men did with her. It was a lesson Stefan had taught her well.
It stung her to think of Breck in those terms, but she was brutally honest with herself. If she didn’t expect this to last, then she was using him to help get Sophie away from Stefan. Forcing Breck into the same category with all the other men she’d ever known felt wrong, but she couldn’t deny it was true.
She just hated that it was true. There was nothing she could do about it, but that was her life.
Turning her thoughts away from her pathetic excuse for a love life, she reviewed the weekend. Stefan probably wasn’t going to be pleased they hadn’t secured the invitation to the Abernathys’ ball, but Tam thought this might be even better. It would give her the opportunity to study them more and perhaps uncover what it was about them that interested Stefan. Anything to get some kind of advantage. Did they have something valuable to steal? An ancient artifact, encrypted information, a vault filled with cred chips? None of the research she, Breck, or his hired investigators had done had turned up anything that was particularly unusual about Lord Abernathy or his wife.
Tam and Breck had left for London after another mind-numbing day of horse races, but they’d again managed to mingle with the Abernathys. Good, but best not to press too fast. She sensed the couple was used to people trying to leech from them. Drusilla had casually mentioned that Abernathy was the queen’s cousin—a by-blow of some affair her uncle had had with his interior designer. Hardly the first royal bastard, but it seemed Abernathy was quite close to the queen, which meant he had influence. It was the most interesting thing about the man, which wasn’t very. He was probably used to pandering sycophants who hoped he’d drop a word to his cousin for them.
The Averys were as close to royalty as Americans claimed, so having them at the party was imperative. In the Abernathys’ minds, it would put Breck and Tam into the same category as they were in—able to bend the ear of one of the most powerful people on the planet. Of course, the English would never consider upstart Americans in quite the same class, but Hunter Avery was the wealthiest man alive. Money talked.
“We’re here.” When they rocked to a stop in front of the Royale, Breck exited their private transport and helped her out. “I’ll have them send our bags up.”
“Good.” She brushed a kiss over his cheek. “I’m going to speak to the concierge and catering staff about our little soiree.”
When she turned to do just that, he caught her arm and spun her around, jerking her into his arms. His lips covered hers, and he licked his way into her mouth. Molding herself against him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and rose on tiptoe. His teeth scraped her lower lip, making her shudder. Her tongue twined with his, and his flavor burst over her taste buds. Her body reacted as it always did whenever he was near. Her nipples tightened, her pussy dampened, and the cheetah within her writhed in feral need.
He groaned, his hands coasting down her sides to cup her hips. The tips of his fingers almost brushed her ass, but not quite. They managed to keep it mostly civilized in public.
This time.
When he lifted his head, they were both panting for breath. She could see the sharp look of the eagle in his eyes, saw how he wrestled with control as much as she did. A wry smile curled her lips. She let herself drop back down, enjoying the slide of their bodies together, the feel of his erection prodding her. Laying her cheek on his shoulder, she let herself lean on him for just a moment. His solid, steady strength was such a balm right now. She shouldn’t let herself rely on it, but for just a few more seconds she let herself cling.
His palm cupped the back of her head. “It’s going to be all right.”
“You can’t know that.” She swallowed hard, battling back the emotion that threatened to drag her under.
“No, you’re right. I can’t know it.” He kissed her forehead, then released her to step back. His blue eyes met hers. “But I can believe it. Someone has to.”
“Such an optimist.” She tsked. “Who’d have ever thought it of Constantine Breckenridge?”
He winked, turned to speak to the bellman, and she took the opportunity to slip away to speak to the Royale staff as she’d promised.
It took an hour of persuading, but she got her way. The party would be in two days. Three days before the Abernathy ball. Perfect. The menu, the waitstaff, and all the other major details had been negotiated. She was certain they’d come up with more that needed deciding, but the important arrangements were finalized. Good.
She would have heaved a sigh of relief, but that was only the first step of many to make sure everything went according to Stefan’s master plan.
Pulling out her palmtop, she stepped into a private alcove outside the staff offices and called Delilah. Almost immediately, the woman’s face appeared on the vidscreen, her spiky blond hair a bit mussed on one side. No doubt Hunter was to blame there. Curiosity sparkled in Delilah’s green eyes. “What did you need, Tam?”
Of course Tam wouldn’t be calling unless she wanted something. She would have assumed the same if Delilah ever called her. “A very small thing, actually.”
The blonde smirked. “You can’t have my kidneys.”
Tam snorted. “I haven’t taken to human organ trafficking, but I wouldn’t start with Hunter Avery’s mate if I were getting into that business.”
Delilah tilted her head. “Well, since you know I’m not into shady business anymore, then I’m guessing this does have to do with being Hunter Avery’s mate.”
“You always were a smart one.”
“Thank you,” she demurred. “What did you need?”
“Breck and I are hosting a small event in his penthouse the day after tomorrow.” Tam flashed her most charming smile. “I’d like you to attend.”
Delilah’s nose wrinkled. “And bring my mate, right?”
“Right.”
“He’d hate that. He hates nobbing with the rich and pretentious. What makes you think we’d go for something like that?”
Trepidation flooded Tam, and she tried to keep the desperation out of her expression and voice. She widened her smile. “Because I asked you?”
Delilah’s brows contracted. “Do I owe you a favor I’m forgetting about?”
“No, but I have a feeling I’m about to owe you one,” Tam returned wryly.
The blond woman’s grin made her look every millimeter the lynx she was. “I’m not in the business of needing favors anymore, Tam.”
“I know.” Tam took a breath. “You have a sister you love. What would you be willing to do if she were in danger?”
The lynx-shifter’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Is that a threat? Is my sister in danger?”
“No, your sister isn’t in danger.”
She blinked, her eyebrows rising until they almost met her hairline. “I didn’t know you had any family.”
“In this business, it’s safer that way if they aren’t in the game.” Tam let her shoulder dip into a shrug. It was as true as possible. Sophie wasn’t in the game, and Stefan wasn’t someone she really considered family.
“Yeah, I could see that.” Delilah snorted. “My sister’s reputation is far more notorious than mine. Legalized, but still.” She shrugged. “I’m glad this wasn’t a threat, Tam. That’s never been your style. I’d like to think you wouldn’t stoop so low.”
“I’d like to think so, too. We all have the lines we won’t cross, no matter what profession we’re in.” And they all had things that would break them, make them cross every line they’d ever had. Tam had once told herself she would never work with Stefan again. She knew the smile she offered Delilah was crooked. “I’m not asking your mate or you to get involved in anything south of legal, but your presence would certainly make my mark more willing to attend.” She swallowed, let her tone go soft and pleading. “I don’t want to bring anyone I don’t have to in on this, but for my family . . .”
“Breck seemed pretty involved when we saw you together the other day.”
She huffed out a breath. “His choice and his stubborn persistence. I tried to keep him out of it.”
“Men.”
“Rich, powerful men used to getting everything they want,” she agreed.
“Exactly when they want it, yeah.” Delilah sighed. “We’ll be there. I can’t promise how long I can get Hunter to stay, but we’ll be there.”
“Make a fashionably late entrance, then.” She let her relief and gratitude show. “I appreciate it.”
“You owe me one.”
“I understand.” And she did. If Delilah ever needed anything, Tam would pay up. She might be a despicable human being in a lot of respects, but she honored her obligations, and if this got her one step closer to getting Sophie out of her father’s clutches, then there weren’t a lot of limits Tam would place on repaying such a favor. “I’ll send you details in the morning.”
She ended the call and closed her eyes, dragging in a deep breath that almost turned into a sob. The strain was getting to her, ruffling her normal calm when she was on a job. But this wasn’t a job, this was her sister’s life they were talking about. The job usually came with the thrill of the chase, the anticipation of her mark’s next move, outwitting everyone and overcoming obstacles. There was none of that this time. She hadn’t even felt that thrill for the job in a long time, if she were honest with herself. She was exhausted, she was spent, and she just wanted out. She wanted her sister out of this and wanted to make sure she was never threatened again.
More and more, it looked like the only way to do that was to take Stefan out of her sister’s life permanently, and that might mean taking herself out of Sophie’s life, too. Tam had an exit plan for Sophie, had set it in place years ago. In a worst-case scenario, there were people who’d agreed to take her sister, raise her, and keep her far, far away from people like Tam and Stefan.
She’d just hoped she’d never have to use it; but unless Stefan was dead and gone, there didn’t seem to be another option. She could not—would not—allow Sophie to be used as a pawn again.
Tears burned the backs of her eyes, and she desperately wished this would all go away, but there were no easy answers, no simple solutions. Dragging in a deep breath, she caught Breck’s scent, and that sent a whole new wave of emotions washing through her. She wished things were simpler, that she had the chance to figure out if anything might develop between them. She wished she were someone else, someone who was worthy of a man like him. But she wasn’t and she never would be. She forced herself to straighten and keep going. That was the only thing she could do. Put one foot in front of the other. Smoothing her hands down her skirt and flipping her hair back over her shoulder, she curved her mouth into a smile that was bright enough to fool anyone.
Breck stepped out from behind one of the many pillars that graced the lobby, and that tsunami wave hit her again. He was so handsome, like some prince in an ancient fairy tale. His gaze sharpened with concern and she knew there was at least one person her smile hadn’t fooled. A part of her loved how well he could read her, anticipate her, and another part hated it, feared it.
His hand came up to stroke down her cheek. “Have you finished up?”
Leaning into his touch, she closed her eyes. There were too many thoughts and feelings ricocheting around inside of her. She just needed his strength and stillness for a moment, long enough to make the world stop spinning. His lips brushed over her forehead, his arm circling her waist.
She opened her eyes when he propelled her forward, but steered her away from the bank of lifts. “Where are we going? Stefan surely knows we’re back by now. I have to go upstairs and check on my sister.”
“I know,” he replied. “There’s a private lift for each of the penthouse suites. For when the über-rich don’t care to socialize with the merely well-off.”
“How convenient.”
“Yes.” He slanted her a look. “We can stop on your floor, but I thought you could use a little more . . . distraction . . . before you had to deal with daddy dearest again.”
She could definitely use some distracting, that was certain. And as long as they were going in the right direction, there was no reason not to multitask. He was so very good at distracting her. Warmth spread through her at the thought. The man could make her wet with a single glance. She probably shouldn’t enjoy it quite so much, but she did. “You want to shag in the lift, don’t you?”
She said it out loud because it made it so much more real, more solid and right in front of her than her situation with Sophie.
His expression was wicked, giving her what she needed. A reason to think about something else. Just for a few minutes.
“I never have before. It might be fun to try. Take the edge off before you have to deal with Stefan.”
Her throat closed. Dread curdled inside of her. She wanted to see Sophie, not just on her palmtop as she had the last two days, but in person. But seeing Sophie meant seeing Stefan. She quelled the familiar rush of rage and terror.
“Sounds like fun,” she whispered, pressing her cheek to Breck’s shoulder as they stopped in front of an ornate door of etched mercurite.
“Yes, everything with Stefan is so much—”
He cut himself off, his movements rough as he swiped his ident card over the tiny vidpad that would call the lift. Looked like she wasn’t the only one who could use something else to think about. She didn’t want to consider why Breck was so tense about Stefan. Factoring in Breck’s feelings for her made things even more complicated. She tried not to think about that either.
The door swished open, silent except for a rush of displaced air. If the normal lift was lovely with polyglass panes that overlooked the lobby, this screamed luxury. The wood paneling looked pre-war era, smooth and polished to a high gleam. As blasé as she’d learned to act when faced with this kind of elegance, it never failed to impress her and make her remember the crumbling hovel she’d grown up in. Breck urged her inside the lift and used the vidpad to key in the floors they wanted to stop on. The door closed and they began to slide upward.
“You realize the Royale staff is probably gathered around a vidscreen watching this. An establishment like this has to have vidmonitors in their lifts.” She glanced around the lift but didn’t see an obvious vidmonitor. That didn’t mean it wasn’t there, just well hidden.
He shrugged. “Being watched never bothered either of us before. Remember the Peep Show at Tail?”
A shiver went through her remembering that night. “Oh, yes.”
“We should do it again some time.” He gave her a sinful little grin.
She opened her mouth to agree, then snapped it shut again. There was no way she could realistically make a promise like that, and she’d told him she’d never lie to him again. Instead of answering, she tapped the vidpad to stop the lift mid-glide and pressed herself against his muscular form.
His pupils dilated and he drew in a sharp breath. “Tam.”
“Hm?” She rubbed her breasts back and forth across his chest, loving the feel of her nipples tightening. The microsilk of her dress abraded her sensitive flesh. Lovely. The heat in his eyes was even lovelier.
Rising on her toes to torment them both a little more, she brushed her lips over his. He backed her up against the wall, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She purred, the feline in her reveling in the layers of sensation stroking over every heightened sense. His hands clamped on her hips, holding her in place while he kissed her. He gathered her skirt in his hands, and she shuddered as the microsilk slid against her flesh. Cool air circulated around her thighs, and gooseflesh rose on her skin. She panted into his mouth, her tongue mated with his, her fangs scraped his lips, and she grew wetter, more excited.
She couldn’t wait to have him inside of her. She writhed against his hard length; her hands streaked over him, caressing his muscles through his clothes. Heat bellowed through her, spreading to every centimeter of her body, and tingles followed in its wake.
A low whimper spilled out of her when he abandoned her lips and dropped to his knees before her. Excitement screamed through her when he lifted her leg and hooked it over his shoulder, opening her to his gaze, his mouth. Her claws curled into the fabric of her skirt, pulling it even higher for him. Yes. She wanted this, him. Pleasure. Any way he wanted to give it to her.
The heat of his breath rushed over her bare flesh. He chuckled. “No underwear.”
“No.” She rolled her head against the wooden panel, arching her hips in offering.
“You’re ready for me,” he growled.
“Yes.” She could feel his gaze on her, knew he saw how wet she was for him. His fingers stroked the insides of her thighs, and her need built to a fever pitch that made the impatient cheetah within her want to scream with frustration. Deus, it was delicious. She grinned, felt her lips pull against her fangs.
His mouth closed over her clit and she did scream. “Breck!”
He chuckled and the sound vibrated against her sensitive flesh. She shuddered, her sex contracting once. The tips of his fingers skimmed up her thighs to stroke across her slit. He parted the lips of her pussy, pressing two big fingers into her channel. Yes. Sweet heat billowed through her, making her shake with desire. Her pulse sped, hot blood racing through her veins.
His tongue batted at her clit while his fingers drove her crazy. Her hips moved to the rhythm his hand and mouth set. Only her feline reflexes and balance kept her from toppling, with one leg draped over his broad shoulder. Sweat gathered in beads at her temples, slipping down her skin. She shivered at the sensation.
Moving his hand, he drew his fingers back to swirl her own wetness around the pucker of her anus. Her muscles jerked and her breath stopped in her lungs. Circling his hand back and forth from her pussy and her anus, he eased his digits into her ass, stretching her rear channel. She heard her claws shred holes through her skirt as he worked three long fingers into her.
His tongue curled around her clit, his mouth working her as relentlessly as his hand did. Panting, she felt climax building within her. It was all she could do to stay on her feet. He finger-fucked her ass, harder and faster, and her hips bucked to meet his thrusts. So close. She was so close.
“Breck! I’m going to . . . I’m going to . . .”
Orgasm crashed through her, and the scream that ripped from her was more cheetah than woman. Her inner muscles fisted around his thrusting digits while he sucked and bit at her clit. He continued to stroke into her ass, driving deep, stretching her wider with each pass. Heat sparked back to life within her, made her hips undulate with renewed need, and she moved with those talented fingers that pushed into her anus.
“I’m going to fuck you here. Now.” His voice was guttural, barely human. The beast and man struggled for control and she loved that she could push him so far.
“Deus, yes.” Her breath sobbed out, and she could barely suck in enough oxygen.
He dragged her down to the floor so she was on her hands and knees in front of him. The position was so feral, it called to the animal in her, and she purred with rough anticipation. Arching her back, she offered herself for penetration.
A groan wrenched from him. His talons scraped over her flesh as he held her in place. The head of his cock probed her anus and she panted, shivers running through her muscles. Deus, Deus. He pressed in, stretching her as he eased one micrometer in at a time. Moans spilled from her throat, and her claws dug into the expensive carpeting on the floor of the lift. The feel of him inside her was so good, just as it had been from the first time he’d touched her. She feared nothing would ever be as good again with anyone else. Who else had ever turned her inside out this way?
But her thoughts scattered when he withdrew from her ass as slowly as he’d entered her. He reached beneath her and rubbed the tip of one finger over her clit. It made the glide of him inside of her even better, sent tingles skittering down her limbs. Her sex clenched on emptiness, but they both groaned as the involuntary action squeezed her inner muscles around his cock.
“Faster, Breck. Make me come.”
His free hand slapped her buttock. Hard. She squealed and jolted, her pussy burning even hotter at the stinging contact. A bead of her wetness trailed down the inside of her thigh.
“I can smell how much that turned you on, Tam.” He swatted her ass again, driving his dick into her anus at the same time.
Shock robbed her of breath, and there was no time to get it back as he began pounding inside her at a swift, demanding pace. Every few thrusts, he’d smack her backside. The rhythm was unpredictable, peppering over her buttocks and upper thighs. It only increased her pleasure, twisting it with a bite of pain.
He stretched her ass with every hard penetration, and his fingers played over her clit. It was too much. She danced on the edge of her control within moments. He dragged his talons over the swollen cheek of her ass, and she knew her punished flesh was red from his spanking. Her pussy fisted once, twice. Digging her claws into the carpet, she tried to hold out, tried to keep this from ending for a while longer. She didn’t want it to end. Never, ever wanted it to end.
Sinking deep into her anus, deeper than he’d been before, he shoved her over that edge. She closed her eyes as orgasm sent her flying. Groans echoed in the small lift as they both came, shuddering, harsh cries breaking from them. His fluids filled her ass, and her pussy clenched in rhythmic waves that made stars burst behind her eyelids. He flicked his finger over her clit, working her through her climax, and those hot pulses of release kept sweeping through her body until her muscles shook. Sweat slipped down her skin, and she could hear the thundering of her heartbeat in her ears.
Long moments passed before she came down off the incredible high. Amazing. It had been rough and wild and a little desperate. Exactly suiting her mood.
He always gave her exactly what she needed.
How was she going to live without him? Deus, how was she even going to live through this? She didn’t know, and tears burned the backs of her eyes. A few days before, she’d had a clear understanding of who she was, what she wanted, and what she needed to sacrifice in order to get it. All of that seemed to have jumbled up and shaken loose so quickly.